I dreamed of eating beans spooned up
in a sort of scoop made of cornmeal, pressed and baked to hardness, edible only
after the beans have softened it enough to chew (too soft to continue scooping)
whereupon one eats it, then grabs another with which to scoop up the
remainder. Kind of a neat system.
In a flash-dream I perceived myself
exploding out of a tank. I filled in the
details of the thoughts preceding the moment.
I dreamed of the confrontation
between Lucinda and Petro, and for once much of dialogue came clear, down to
the exact, growling tone of her run-on sentence when she barks, “Get out of her
bed she doesn’t want you!” No comma. Interestingly, decades later, a friend in Old
Pascua gave me an identical-appearing rosary, though I’m unsure of the actual
I made up the arrival at the home
base in the university, to lead into the next batch of dreams.